


Hiding

by Chimie_Chat



Category: Blue Beetle (Comics), DCU (Comics), Impulse (Comics), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Insecurity, M/M, Movie Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 02:22:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14632092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chimie_Chat/pseuds/Chimie_Chat
Summary: Having an alien scarab attached to your spinal chord can cause all sorts of problems. The one no one ever talks about, least of all Jaime, is the insecurities. What if people think its ugly? What if it scares people? Thankfully, he's in a healthy relationship with a certain speedster, who's the most accepting person Jaime has ever met.





	Hiding

There were some situations that were inherently uncomfortable; bus seats were one, a tag on the back of a shirt poking you in the back of the neck was another. For Jaime, the scarab latched onto his spine was easily a hundred times more uncomfortable than any shirt tag. For started, a tag didn’t advise him that the best way to deal with a minor inconvenience was “tactical annihilation”. The weight of the beetle gave Jaime chronic upper back pain. If he wore a backpack for too long, or leaned into a chair back, the pressure would cause the skin and muscles around the figure to become sore. If anyone ever patted him on the back, it felt more like getting stabbed. Physically, yes, Khaji’dà was beyond uncomfortable. But the real discomfort was much more internalized.

Previously to becoming Blue Beetle, Jaime had no concerns about his body. But the presence of the scarab changed everything. Fear of others discovering his secret identity slowly turned into a constant worry of what people would think about the alien mass between his shoulder blades. Soon, he was piling on layers every day; an odd side for a young adult in El Paso. Even in the dead of summer, Jaime never went outside without a baggy hoodie.

He wasn’t exactly sure when, but somewhere along the way, hiding the scarab for fear of getting found out transformed into shame and physical insecurity. Even in the presence of his teammates, Jaime dreaded the idea of someone seeing the scarab. It was odd. He understood that. Some of his friends were green, some weren’t even human. Heck, two were literal fish people. But for some reason, that didn’t matter. Khaji’dà’s physical structure and his existence on Jaime’s back just felt like some private matter not just anyone should be allowed to see. To him, is was the same as hiding an embarrassing birthmark, or an ugly scar.

For a long time, Jaime’s preudency wasn’t a problem. The largest inconvenience was that he now wore a shirt when he went swimming. Even that was barely a hinderance. Then he met Bart.

Bart, for lack of a better term, crashed into his life. There were so many factors that played into them becoming friends. But time, proximity, and an undeniable mutual attraction, eventually turned them into more.

Jaime felt a lot of pride in how healthy his relationship with the speedster was. They were both heros, so there was no need for secrets between them. Communication was second nature after so many missions with a telepathic link, courtesy of M’gann. The two were also very good at respecting both physical, and personal boundaries. Bart adored physical affection. Jaime was happy to give it to him. Bart needed someone who could text him back almost instantly. Jaime needed someone who would give him space so he could be with his family. Bart didn’t like talking about the future he came from. Jaime didn’t like anyone coming close to the scarab. But as their relationship progressed, Jaime quickly learned just how difficult it was to push at his own personal boundaries.

They were in Bart’s bedroom at the Garrick’s house. It was a place Jaime had spent countless nights with the door cracked open. That would likely be the rule tonight as well, but that could wait. Right now the Garrick’s were out of the house, and wouldn’t be back until late. Truthfully, neither Bart nor Jaime expected to be back before the elderly couple, but the mission they had been initially called for got cancelled. This left the teenagers with plenty of free time, and as much as they loved spending time with their teammates, they would couple decided they needed time alone.

They had situated themselves of Bart’s twin-sized bed, with a laptop and Jaime’s Netflix account. Slowly but surely, they had been working through a long list of must-see movies Bart missed out on. Tonight’s movie was Ghostbusters. While it wasn’t even close to being on Jaime’s “Top 25 movies” list, it was an important part of American cinematic history. That, and Beast Boy made way too many references to it that went right over the poor speedster’s head. The pair sat with Bart leaning against the wall, legs apart so that Jaime had enough space to slouch between them, and lean like a sack of potatoes against his boyfriend. There was a pillow in between them to cushion the convexity of the scarab. They had sat like this many time, most often in this order because Jaime just couldn’t stand the feeling of the scarab pressed against a wall like that for so long.

Speedster’s and movies didn’t usually mix, a fact Jaime was now very used to. Bart needed the ability to fidget; he needed to move. This time, the young hero found comfort in running his fingers through Jaime’s hair, relishing in the sensory experience of twirling specific locks around his fingers. Yes, it was very relaxing for Jaime, but anyone could tell that Bart would soon reach his limit for how long he could sit still. When the movie reached a slow point, about halfway though, they paused the film.

 _“This film is scientifically implausible. There is nothing to gain from this experience.”_ The scarab’s voice echoed within Jaime’s head.

The teenagers separated from one another. Bart flung himself onto his feet and started to make his way across the room to his dresser. Except this is Bart Allen we’re talking about here, so it occured in a blur and a quickly appearing gust of wind, and within the blink of an eye, he was out of his jeans and day-old tee, and instead now wore a pair of black gym shorts, and a gray tank top.

“You going for a run there, ese?”

“Nah, just wanted to wear something more comfortable.” There was a goofy grin on Bart’s face as he threw himself back onto the bed. The mattress creaked at the pressure. “Although, a run doesn’t sound to bad…” His feet were kicking at the edge of the bed frame, and his finger’s tapped rapidly against the surface beneath him. Yeah. This boy definitely needed to move.

“Why don’t you do a quick lap? Jaime suggested. “Stretch your legs.”

A massive smile spread from ear to ear before the speedster was suddenly just gone. The only indication that Bart had ever been in the room to begin with was a line of papers that had been forced off the desk by the wind he created when he ran. Jaime pulled his cellphone out of his pocket, and took the eleven minutes and thirty two seconds Bart was out running to flip through the various social media apps on his phone, and ignoring the beetle’s rant about time management. It was a shorter time frame than Jaime was expecting. Yes. His boyfriend was among the fastest people alive, but the guy had the attention span equivalent to that squirrel from Over the Hedge after chugging an energy drink. He had a tendency to get distracted along the way. Sometimes it worked in Jaime’s benefit, and there would be chinese takeout delivered to his lap after an hour spent watching YouTube videos.

When Bart returned he was chinese food-less, but had a perfectly wide smile on his face, and a damp gym towel draped across the back of his neck. It looked like this time Bart had the decency to wipe his sweat off before coming back to the room.

“Bienvendio.” Jaime tossed his phone elsewhere onto the mattress. “Have fun?”

“I pet three dogs!” The simplest things amused this boy.

“Congratulations cariño.”

Bart flopped back onto bed with his usual goofy expression glued to his face. That mop of auburn hair ended up within arms reach, so of course Jaime scooted the two inches over so that he could scratch lightly at his boyfriend’s head. “Feeling better?”

_“The Impulse’s restlessness is a sign of weakness.”_

“Much.” The speedster kicked his legs against the mattress. “You wanna borrow a shirt or something? Pants?”

Jaime looked down at his appearance. It was his usual denim and baggie hoodie. He took a second to remember what kind of shirt he was wearing underneath, and ended up having to unzip his hoodie just enough to peak at it. A tee shirt was safe, a colored tee shirt was safer. Thankfully, he had apparently thrown on a plain black shirt. Perfect. That was by far the safest option.

_“You worry about my visibility. This worry is nonsensical.”_

“I know that.” Jaime immediately saw the confusion on Bart’s face, because what Jaime said out loud was most certainly not a response to the question that was posed to him.

_“We have communicated about this previously. Your ceaseless anxiety is irrational.”_

“Yeah, I know that.” The teen rolled his eye, then pointed over his shoulder. The younger of the two immediately got the message.

_“Then why do you persist with such thoughts?”_

As much as Jaime tried not to let it bother him, it was impossible to remain completely calm when Kahji’dà spoke. So, rather than falling down that rabbit hole, the teen decided to ignore that annoying alien voice, and turned his attention back to the person who mattered. “A pair of sweats would be great.”

One of Bart’s hands squeezed Jaime’s thigh. “Bottom drawer.”

Jaime patted the top of Bart’s hand, before slowly pushing himself up and heading over to the dresser. He probably should have expected this, but the clothing within the drawers were very clearly stuffed in there with no care. Not a single item was folded. Of course, Bart was shorter than him, and for the most part, didn’t wear baggy clothes. Under normal circumstances, there would be the concern that nothing the younger teen owned would fit Jaime. Except this was Bart we were talking about here. So, of course, several items from Jaime’s own wardrobe had “mysteriously” relocated to Bart’s possession. Funny how that happened. A true conundrum.

There was a set of gray sweatpants that had Jaime’s high school mascot printed just over the right pocket. He actually remembered loaning Bart this pair. It only took a few moments to shuck his jeans off of legs, and kick out of them, before pulling the sweatpants on in their stead. There was a pretty good chance that Bart had been watching him change, which meant that the boy definitely got a good eyeful of the navy blue boxer-briefs Jaime wore. For some reason, that was fine though. Legs were safe.

_“You’re contradicting yourself, Jaime Reyes. You fear nudity, and yet are comfortable with partial nudity. Explain.”_

Yeah… There was no way to respond to that without revealing a few things he’d really rather not. “Not now.”

_“Your antiphon does not offer sufficient explanation.”_

“I’ll tell you later then.” Jaime sighed.

“What’s he saying?” Bart’s voice didn’t exactly startle Jaime, but he also hadn’t expected someone to jump into his conversation with the scarab. When Jaime turned around, he saw that the speedster had changed position. Rather than being flopped on his back, Bart had turned over so that he lay on his stomach. His head was propped up on his knuckles, as his leaned his weight onto his elbows. The guy’s legs were up in the air, kicking away at nothing.

“He’s basically just complaining about me changing in front of someone. Something about my defenses being lowered.”

_“That was not what I said.”_

By the time Jaime had made it back over to the bed, Bart had changed position once more. Now the speedster was with his legs crossed, leaning back on the palms of his hands. Jaime sat at the edge of the bed, and picked the laptop up. He rapid-fire tapped on the spacebar until the screen lit up once more. “Alright, so, movie recap. Vinz just escaped from Zuul, and is now heading back to 55 Central Park.”

“Who’s Vinz again?” Bart crawled closer to Jaime.

“The gross monster thing with horns that possessed Louis.”

“Oh right… And who’s Louis again?”

Jaime didn’t know if Bart saw the overly dramatic eye roll, but if he had, he didn’t say anything. “The nerdy looking guy with glasses.”

“Gotcha.” Bart leaned into Jaime’s shoulder. He reached an arm down and grabbed hold to the laptop, pulling it away. “Scoot over, Blue.”

Jaime followed the direction, and pushed himself back the two feet so he was against the wall. He thought about just leaning against the wall, you know, like a normal human being. But he immediately abandoned that idea when he felt Khaji’dà tap against the drywall. So, instead he made the attempt to oh so casually stretch his legs out along the bed, and lay on his side instead. He kept his head braced in the palm of his hand. There was about an inch or two of space between Khaji’dà and the hard surface behind him, which should be good enough. Plus, Bart seemed to think this change was just fine. The younger hero placed the computer so that it was balancing tediously on the edge of the twin sized mattress, before laying down as well. There was a comfortable lack of space between them. If anything, Jaime closed the gap between them even further. That mop of auburn hair tucked nicely under his chin. He used pressing “play” on the movie as an excuse to wrap his free arm around Bart’s waist, pulling him closer so that they were definitely “spooning”, as the cool kids called it.

The movie continued to play, but it became very clear during a game of footies about fifteen minutes later, that neither teen was exactly paying attention. Jaime didn’t feel too bad about missing out of the movie, cause hey, he’d seen it before. Bart was definitely missing out though.

Two hands started playing with the fingers of the hand draped over the speedster’s side. They drummed against the top of Jaime’s knuckles, squeezed at the structure of his joints, and pinched at admittedly dry skin. Soon Jaime’s hand was being forced from it’s resting place, and pulled up so that Bart could lay little kisses along the tops of his fingers. Jaime just smiled, and planted a kiss on the top of Bart’s head.

“You’re being cute again _mi alma_.”

“Is that what I am?” Anyone could hear the cockiness in Bart’s voice.

Jaime let out a hum, as if to pretend that he was thinking it over. Obviously, both of them already knew the answer to that question. He let his eyes close as he inhaled, letting the smell of Pantene fill his nostrils. “I guess some people could think you’re cute.”

Bart rolled over so that the pair were face-to-face. Yeah, they definitely were not going to actually finish this movie…. Oh well…. “I can think of one person who does.”

“Oh yeah? Who?” Jaime entertained his boyfriend by cocking an eyebrow up.

“Ok so, don’t tell anyone, but he’s a superhero.” The speedster grinned.

“Gasp!”

“I know right? It’s totally crash.” Both of Bart’s hands grabbed onto either of Jaime’s wrists, and maneuvered them so that they were wrapped around him. “His superhero initials are B.B.”

_“This back and forth is pointless.”_

It just wouldn’t be a romantic moment without an alien scarab making dumb comments in your head. “B.B, huh? Wow. Who’s the lucky guy?”

What can only be described as a shit-eating grin found its way onto Bart’s face. “Beast Boy.”

Jaime immediately frowned. “ _Mierda._ He can go find his own time-traveling speedster.”

“Are there really that many of us?” Somehow, Bart’s hands were on Jaime’s chest. It was hard to tell if that happened with the aid of super speed, or if Jaime had honestly just not been paying attention to where the extremities were. “Dang, and here I thought I was special.”

“I thought you always said your were normal?”

“Can’t a guy be both normal and special?”

_“The Impulse’s statement is illogical.”_

“I don’t think it works that way _cariño_.” Jaime swept a free-spirited lock of hair from out of Bart’s face before quickly returning his hand to it’s place at the small of his partner’s back.

“It totally does.”

Well this is totally a cute moment. Definitely cute. Cute moments lead to kissing and fluff an-- Wait… That’s not a cute smile on Bart’s face. Oh no. That’s still the shit-eating grin.

Before Jaime could even begin to imagine what Bart had plotted against him, those damned speedster’s hands were at his stomach. There was the absolute briefest “oh no” whispered out before Jaime was being tickled relentlessly. Suddenly, Bart was sprung up, leaning over him, making it so that it was impossible for Jaime to escape the onslaught of fingers attacking his torso. Unfortunately, the older of the two was extremely ticklish. He started laughing uncontrollably at the sensation.

_“Assault detected. Activating defense mechanism.”_

The black of the bio-armor began manifesting down the lengths of Jaime’s arms, and up the curve of his neck. It took every bit of control over this dang scarab to force the transformation back and will the armor away. Of course, that would be managed a heck of a lot easier if Bart wasn’t still stabbing at his sides.

“Bart!” He managed out between laughs. “ _Cariño_ slow down!”

The speedster, of course, didn’t slow down. If anything, he sped up. Jaime probably could have held out until his boyfriend decided he was done, except the fabric of his shirt began to ride up. With that newly exposed skin, came a hand coming into direct contact with the skin on his stomach, pushing the fabric even further up.

In a moment of complete shock, Jaime’s body completely froze. His mental control on the scarab faltered just long enough for black to shoot down his right arm. That highly recognizable, blue sonic canon manifested over his hand. Thankfully, Jaime was able to catch himself, and Khaji’dà, before the alien gun actually fired. Unfortunately, a large weapon appearing on you arm can easily ruin any mood. It only took a blur for Bart to be relocated to the other end of the mattress.

“There’s no danger, go away.”

_“Your neurological response to the Impulses actions say otherwise.”_

“I don’t care about my neurowhatever response, there’s no danger.” Jaime stared at his arm as the beetle armor receded back into the scarab. He let out a sigh when it had settled completely.

“You alright there?” Bart inched back over towards Jaime. The guy wasn’t nearly as on edge as he probably should be, but maybe that was actually a good thing.

“Yeah. Yeah I’m fine.” Jaime held his hand out, and waited almost no time at all for Bart’s to find its way around it. “Sorry I spooked there.”

“It happens.” Bart took the hand holding as an invitation to scoot in closer again. They sat across from each other. “Didn’t mean to freak you out or something.”

Jaime bit the inside of his cheek. “You didn’t. It was the scarab.”

“Babe.” Well that name didn’t come out often between them. “I could feel it. You tensed up, and then the gun thing came out.”

Dammit. Jaime looked down at the bed sheets, at the wall, at a loose sock on the floor, anywhere but at Bart.

“Jaime?” There was a pause. Probably one of the most awkward silences the two of them had ever shared. It was eventually broken by Bart letting out a sigh. “Is this about how you don’t like taking your shirt off? Cause I’m super sorry if I made you uncomfortable just now.”

Jaime’s head shot up. “Wait, what? You know about that?”

The speedster quirked up an eyebrow. “Blue. We’ve been dating for months now, and you’ve been my best friend for way longer. I might not be the sharpest something in the something-stack, or... whatever that expression is. But I know you. Pretty damned well if I might add.”

“Sorry.” It came out as a mumble.

“Why are you sorry?” A hand brushed along Jaime’s cheek, forcing eye contact between the teenagers.

“Cause I’m an insecure piece of crap?”

“Well, you’re the most attractive insecure piece of crap I’ve ever met.” The smile on Bart’s face was sincere, and honestly, Jaime didn’t know how the mood in this tiny bedroom had changed so many times in the past five minutes. It was hard to keep up. “Seriously, Blue. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“I know I don’t need to, but I still do.” Jaime took a deep breath. “I don’t want to go into it right now.”

“That’s ok.” The reaction Jaime definitely wasn’t expecting, was for Bart to lean over to lean over and plant a soft kiss against his forehead. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Jaime let out a sigh. “ _Gracias mi amor_.”

“Can I just ask one itsy-bitsy thing?”

“ _Qué?_ ”

  
“Is it because of you, or the scarab?”

Why were superheroes always so observant? Who decided that was ok? “The scarab.”

Another kiss found its way onto Jaime’s cheeks. “Alright then.” With that, Bart moved away. He leaned over the side of the bed to pick up the laptop, which had apparently been pushed off the edge in the all the comotion.

“That’s it?”

The movie was still playing, but seeing as they had missed quite a bit of it just now, Bart paused it, and began to rewind until he could somewhat recognize a scene. “Yep.”

“You’re really not going to ask more?”

“Nope.” Bart set the movie up at an hour and fifteen minutes in. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

Jaime inched behind his partner and wrapped his arms around the smaller body in a tight hug. “Thanks.”

“So are we gonna finish this movie or what? I hear something about “crossing streams” and I’m really confused.”

“We could,” Jaime peppered a few kisses down the side of Bart’s face. Was it silly? Maybe. But hey, let him have this. “Or we coul--”

The sound of the front door opening, and the two older owners of the house walking in, couldn’t be missed. It was a very distinctive thud, followed by keys jingling, and a loud voice commenting on the quality of a casserole. There wasn’t even half a second before Bart ran to the door of his bedroom, into the hall. “Welcome home! Jaime’s here, we’re just watching something called Ghostbusters.” Before a reply was called back, Bart was back on the bed, with his computer in his lap. The door was left wide open, to avoid any and all suspicion, and the teens left a good inch of space between their shoulders.

“How are you boys doing?” It was Joan Garrick who eventually stopped by the room. She stood in the door frame.

“Pretty good.” Bart responded. “Didn’t have to go on any missions today.”

Joan smiled at that. “We brought home some desserts. They’ll be in the fridge. Why don’t you too finish your movie, then go help yourselves?”

“Thank you Miss. Garrick.” Jaime smiled at the lady.

“Of course Jaime. Oh, and Bart?”

“Yeah?”

“Door stays open.”


End file.
